


craft project ideas for moon flowers

by renquise



Category: VIXX
Genre: Gen, M/M, Moon vampire AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-18
Updated: 2018-08-18
Packaged: 2019-06-29 07:47:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15725067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/renquise/pseuds/renquise
Summary: The moon smelled of gunpowder. The flowers changed that.





	craft project ideas for moon flowers

**Author's Note:**

> Oh man, hello! It’s been awhile! Sorry for popping back into the fandom with er, more weird moon vampire fic. Apologies for any clunkiness--I'm a little out of practice! /o\
> 
> So I was like, haha, what if Scentist is the follow-up to Do Won Kyung's follow-up to On & On about vampires settling down on the moon? Haha! Oh wait I guess I’m writing it whoops. (Maybe read [this other self-indulgent moon vampire bit](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10929168) first, because this might not make much sense without it?)
> 
> (ps pls do not look at the actual plausibility of perfumes in the cold vaccuum of space too closely because boy did I ever go down a google rabbithole on that one. Assume moon vampire chemistry magic.)

The moon smelled of gunpowder.

It was familiar, really—one of the first things all of them had learned from their handlers on Earth was how to handle firearms. Hakyeon remembered the kickback jolting his arms, the acrid smell of an ejected casing. He remembered the looks on their handlers’ faces when he had taught Sanghyuk in turn when he was created, steadying his grip and adjusting his posture: proud, but also unsettled. Scared of what they were, and maybe rightly so. 

So the moon smelled like that: a burnt sour smell that permeated everything, sharp and electric.

In the first lean years after landing, Hakyeon hated it. It smelled like slow starvation, like helpless, desperate anger at not being able to provide for all of them, like all this grey desert moon had to offer was more of the same. But eventually, Hakyeon didn’t even notice it anymore, too caught up in the slow, careful blossoming of their home around them. Besides, there wasn’t else much that had scent, really: there was the familiar scent of blood, maybe, warm and metallic from the synthesizers in their lab or cold and crisp from someone’s wrist. 

The flowers changed that.

It took Hongbin and Jaehwan years to develop them, splice together something that had their resilience, but could feed from the sun instead of burning to a crisp. Years enough that Hakyeon had forgotten that there were scents other than gunpowder and blood. 

Hongbin laughed when Hakyeon cupped his hands around the flowers and buried his face in their soft white petals, inhaling deeply and holding the scent close to himself. 

“Do you like them, hyung?” Hongbin asked, mock-curious.

“I don't know, I don't think he likes them at all,” Jaehwan said with a dramatic sigh. “Back to the drawing board. It's a failure, Hongbinnie. Our mighty leader thinks our flowers are terrible.” 

Hakyeon would have liked to deliver swift justice for their cheekiness, but that would have meant letting go of the flowers. The scent was—he wasn’t sure how to describe it. Sharp but sweet. Heady. 

He eventually let them go, depositing them delicately back into Hongbin’s hands. 

“They’re nice,” he said primly.

Jaehwan rolled his eyes. “Oh, come on, they’re better than ‘nice.’ I want better compliments.”

“Very nice.”

Hongbin laughed. “Well, okay. Thank you for your detailed and valuable input, hyung.”

Hakyeon turned back to his new project, a long, elongated creature he vaguely remembered from a story. But he kept raising his hands to his face, inhaling deeply to catch the traces of the lush, green scent.

A few months later, Hakyeon had a lovely little snake wound around his wrist as he worked, and he found another strain of flowers on his workbench, even more delicate and powerful in their scent. 

“Oof. The smell is almost too much,” Sanghyuk said, leaning curiously over Hakyeon’s shoulder. “Nice, though. Is that Hongbin’s work?”

“I think so. Jaehwan got bored with it and wandered over to Taekwoon’s ridiculous hydraulic piano project, as far as I know.”

“Taekwoon says it’s going to be very cool and to stop making fun of him,” Sanghyuk said solemnly, the corners of his mouth twitching up.

“Well, that’s not going to happen, is it?”

“Nope," Sanghyuk said. "Those flowers turned out really nicely, though. I like that chameleon he’s made, too. Maybe Hongbin could like, combine the two. Camouflage flowers. Nice-smelling chameleons.”

At the end of the day, Hakyeon tucked the flowers inside his clothes. When he moved, the faint scent floated out of his silks, the petals crushed against his skin. Hongbin complained about having to clean up petals in their bedding, but Hakyeon could tell that he was pleased. It did come with hazards, though, namely Wonshik rolling over at dusk and limpeting onto him, muttering something about smelling nice. 

Flowers only lasted so long, though, even crossed with their resilient genes, and Hakyeon found himself wishing that they would last longer. 

“Why, though? I’m growing some more anyways,” Hongbin said. He dumped another bundle of flowers on Hakyeon’s workbench. Hakyeon wasn’t even sure that Hongbin was all that interested in flowers, honestly, which made it kind of sweet. 

Hakyeon had extracted the oils from the last crop of flowers, but it had evaporated as soon as it was exposed to the vaccuum around them, landing as fine, frozen crystals in Hakyeon’s palm. It was taking a long time to find something that could make the scent last longer. He was getting there, though, and the challenge was nice. 

“Maybe I want to treasure gifts from my precious dongsaeng,” he said airily.

“Oh my god, like I said, I can grow some more,” Hongbin grimaced. “And it’s way too obvious a metaphor. Like, really, sucking the essence from flowers and making them live longer?” 

Hakyeon waved this off. “Hongbinnie, stop being ornery and get over here. I want to test something.”

“Okay, okay,” Hongbin said. 

Hongbin was flushed with fresh blood, his cheeks pink. He must have come straight from supper. Hakyeon’s snake raised her head from her place at Hakyeon’s workbench, sensing the faint heat from Hongbin’s skin.

“Oh, here, she wants you,” Hakyeon said.

Hongbin sighed, but offered up his arm. Hakyeon’s snake slithered from Hakyeon’s wrist to Hongbin, loosely curling around his neck in a happy bundle. 

“Geez, she’s exactly like you. So clingy.” Hongbin sighed, petting her smooth scales.

Hakyeon rolled his eyes. Cuddling up to people when they were blood-warm and full just made sense, really. 

Hongbin raised a skeptical eyebrow at Hakyeon when Hakyeon asked for his wrist, but offered it up without complaint. Hakyeon tipped the vial onto his fingers and dabbed a bit of the oil to Hongbin’s wrist.

“Oh, is that it?” Hongbin said, curious. He smelled his wrist. “Huh. It’s nice.”

Hakyeon gestured for Hongbin’s hand, raising it towards himself. The scent was different from when he tried it on himself, somehow, sharper and sweeter all at once. 

“May I?” Hakyeon flicked his eyes up at Hongbin.

“Go ahead.” Hongbin tipped his wrist towards him.

When Hakyeon raised Hongbin’s wrist to this mouth, the scent enveloped him. He bit down, and he tasted iron mingled with flowers, potent and overwhelming. A gasp escaped Hongbin, a shudder coursing through him. 

They didn’t need to feed from each other, but they didn’t need flowers and animals and beautiful things, either. They have lived without these things, and it was a much emptier, colder life, and if Hakyeon had learned one thing about himself since first coming to the cold emptiness of the moon, it was that he wanted their lives to be full of beautiful things. 

Hongbin stumbled into him, and Hakyeon tore himself away from his wrist. 

“Sorry, Hongbinnie, ah—” The smell of flowers was still heavy in his head. He felt almost drunk with it. Hongbin’s hair had gone a little grey, embarrassingly. Hakyeon had only meant to take a sip. 

“It's cool. Although I’m going to have to eat again, geez.”

“If you're quick, Taekwoon might not have stolen your leftovers.” 

“Ha, that’s unlikely.” 

Hongbin looked fond, though, and it made Hakyeon want to hug him obnoxiously tight. Instead, Hakyeon smoothed his fingertips along the inside of Hongbin’s wrist, watching the punctures disappear. 

“You taste nice,” Hakyeon said, trying for nonchalance and poise. He was pretty sure it wasn’t entirely successful with his mouth red with blood and his eyes aglow. 

Hongbin huffed, grinning at him. “I taste the same as all of us. We all drink the same thing. Ah, you’ve got a little something—” 

Hongbin gestured to the corner of his mouth, and then reached out to wipe Hakyeon’s cheek, his touch matter-of-fact a in a way that made fondness swell in Hakyeon’s chest.

“Anyway. I’m growing some more. Do you want to see them? Getting into the sun protection suits is a pain, but it’s worth it.”

“Mm. Yes.” Hakyeon linked his fingers with Hongbin’s and led them out into the soft, familiar dark.


End file.
